


Things To Do In Denver When You're Dead

by sidewinder



Series: Games Demons Play [2]
Category: Brimstone
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-19
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 19:24:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidewinder/pseuds/sidewinder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was, after all, understandably difficult to forget about a kiss that had been better than the best sex he'd ever had, no matter who the kiss had come from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things To Do In Denver When You're Dead

**Author's Note:**

> The following story is written entirely for fun and not for any profit. No attempt is made to supersede or infringe upon the copyrights held by any television or film companies upon which this story is based.

Ezekiel Stone pulled back the curtains and stood by the window, watching the snow fall.

Snow. That was something he hadn't seen in a long time. The chill of winter was in the air and he couldn't have been happier; cold bothered him no more than heat, but after fifteen years in Hell it was definitely the more pleasant sensation. He thought about going outside just to feel the icy flakes hit his face, melt on his skin and slide down under the collar of his well-worn coat.

The severe winter storm had impeded his travel plans, leaving him stranded at this motel at least until the morning. He'd been hitchhiking his way from L.A. to Denver, but the last driver who'd picked him up hadn't wanted to risk the roads with another foot of snow still on the way before morning. Fortunately, Stone's daily budget had been enough to cover a room for himself for the night--and had even left him with change for a Coke and a Milky Way from the motel vending machines. Not much of a dinner, but it wasn't as if he was actually hungry.

Several days ago, he'd heard about a series of gruesome murders in the Denver area. Intuition told him that it could only be the work of one of his hundred and thirteen. The devil usually showed up to give him some sort of clue as to who he should go after next, but their last encounter, on Christmas Eve, had been less than enlightening.

At least as far as Ezekiel's mission here on Earth was concerned; in other regards it had been...

Well, "explosive" might be one word for it. "Disturbing" would definitely be another. Stone had tried to forget about it...and so far he'd failed miserably. It was, after all, understandably difficult to forget about a kiss that had been better than the best sex he'd ever had, no matter _who_ the kiss had come from.

No, make that _especially_ because of who the kiss had come from.

Ezekiel's thoughts had been going round in circles over the incident ever since that night, trying to figure out the devil's motives. Had it just been a joke, another one of those little pranks of which Satan was so fond? The devil delighted in tormenting him, that was nothing new. But was it possible he had meant something more by that kiss...

Thinking of it again was enough to bring a flush to the detective's face--and awaken a stir of interest in his traitorous body. Ezekiel leaned his head against the ice- covered windowpane and sighed. This wasn't right. He wasn't going to think about it now. It had all been a joke, another prank designed to simply mess with his mind. After all, the devil had made a remark about New Year's Eve before leaving that night, and December thirty-first had come and gone without incident. The new year was already a week old and he hadn't been visited by the annoying bastard once.

Ezekiel turned away from the window and put on the TV, looking for a distraction. If he was lucky there might even be something on the news regarding the murders. He sat down on the bed and started flipping through the channels, but found it was too early for the late-night news. Instead he started watching a bizarre horror-comedy about creatures called 'gremlins' running mad through a Manhattan skyscraper. Mindless fluff, but there was something about one of the actors that caught his attention. Despite the shorter, golden-brown hair, the man on the TV screen bore an uncanny resemblance to...

No, couldn't be. Stone rubbed his eyes and shook his head. He was seeing things now, seeing Satan wherever he turned. This _had_ to be a bad sign. Maybe he really should go outside and cool off in the snow for a while. But just as he was reaching for the remote to turn off the TV, the door to his room blew open and then slammed shut with a gust of cold air.

"I _hate_ this weather!"

Bundled up in a thick winter coat, mittens, earmuffs, and a scarf that would have made Dr. Who envious, the devil stood by the door. He didn't look happy. "I mean, really, Ezekiel, you could have gone soul hunting somewhere _warmer_ this time of the year, couldn't you? Denver, of all places..." He started removing his bulky winter gear and continued, "What about Miami? Key West? I have it on good authority that several of your wayward brethren have headed to warmer climes of late...I suppose they're feeling homesick."

"You haven't bothered to give me any clues the last few weeks, so I had to rely on my own hunches."

"Yes, and you aren't off the mark...I just wish that your 'hunches' hadn't led right into a blizzard. Scoot over." The devil sat down next to Stone on the bed and turned a curious eye to the TV, where his lookalike was currently engaged in feeding a gremlin to a paper shredder. Satan grimaced and remarked, "Well _there's_ one of my lesser forays into the world of cinema."

Stone blinked, and looked back and forth between the TV and the man--no, creature-- seated beside him. "That _is_ you?"

"Who else would it be?"

"Do I want to know what you were doing pursuing an acting career?"

"Even the devil needs a hobby or two," Satan replied with a shrug. "Besides, I love Hollyweird--it's where I do some of my best recruiting work. Those people will sell their souls for _anything_. Who else do you think is responsible for the glorious proliferation of sex and violence in prime time? Need I even mention Scientology?"

"I should have guessed. So what is it you want?" Stone asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"What do I want? Well, I know I'm a few days late and I do apologize for that, Ezekiel. I had some nasty trouble back home with some rebellious incubi I had to...put down. They weren't happy with their holiday bonuses this year and tried to go union on me," Satan sighed. Then he turned on a smile and continued, "Nevertheless, I did promise you something special for New Year's Eve, and I don't want you to think I'm not a man of my word. I know how much you enjoyed our last little tete a tete."

"I didn't," Stone countered, though his denial only made the devil laugh. He was really starting to _hate_ that laugh.

"Oh, come now, Mr. Stone, I beg to differ! According to my recollection of the evening in question, you enjoyed yourself quite thoroughly." The devil leaned closer and added, "Need me to refresh your memory?"

"This is some new game you're playing with me, right?" Ezekiel accused, trying to ignore the way the devil's smile and close proximity was sparking something inside him--something he refused to admit could be desire.

"A game, Ezekiel? All right, if that's what you want to call it." The devil's eyes sparkled with mischievous glee. "The object of the game, then, is to get you to admit how much you want me."

Stone snorted. "That'll happen when Hell freezes over."

Laughing again, Satan said, "Such denial...I love it! But you realize it's pointless when I can see right through you, right into that fuzzy-topped head of yours. I want you to admit that right now, you're sitting here, wondering what it would be like if I were to kiss you again. It's all you've been thinking about since Christmas Eve, isn't it?"

"No. No, you couldn't be more wrong." Stone shook his head, wanting to get away from the other man but somehow unable to move. He tried telling himself he was just standing his ground, refuting the devil's attempts to get to him. Still he breathed a small sigh of relief as Satan frowned and backed off a few blessed inches. "You hurt my feelings," he pouted.

"That would require you having any to begin with."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong. So very, very wrong..." the devil trailed off, reaching out for Stone's cheek, his touch light and undeniably erotic. Ezekiel shivered in spite of himself at the touch, the way it seemed to awaken every nerve ending under the attention of those delicate fingertips. "Stop," he protested, though he did not move away.

"Make me," the devil taunted, fingers sliding down to Stone's neck. "But you don't really want me to stop, do you, Ezekiel?"

Stone bit back the moan that rose unbidden from his throat. 'Dammit, how can he be doing this to me?' he thought to himself. His skin tingled, everywhere Satan touched him, and the way the devil said his name...he felt an ache inside at the sound of it.

"You ache for me because you are mine," the devil whispered, moving even closer, until his mouth was right against Stone's ear. "I gave you this body; it is mine as much as it is yours. Your soul is mine, until the day the last of my marks is burned from your skin. And by the time that day comes, I will have your heart as well."

"Never," he choked out.

Satan laughed, his breath hot against Stone's ear. "Yes, I will. But that's all right, make me fight for it. I love a challenge." Stone turned, intending to push Satan away. The move was a mistake; the devil caught his mouth for a kiss before he could fight him off, and as soon as their lips touched, Stone lost any interest in fighting.

The kiss was different this time--more like a slowly smoldering fire than the explosion that had overwhelmed Ezekiel's senses the last time. But it was still good...so incredibly good. He found himself compelled to explore the other's mouth and the taste was rich and exotic, like blood and wine, like all the flavors he could ever crave and desire. It was the taste of power.

Heat spread through his body, seared him as he felt the devil's hands sliding under his shirt, against his bare skin. Nails raked over his flesh and there was no thinking, no voice of reason telling him that this was wrong, that he didn't want this. There was only the heat, the taste of the devil's kisses, the demanding touch of his hands. Satan pushed him down onto the bed, pinning him against the old mattress and creaky bedsprings. Stone pulled at the devil's clothes, heard the sound of fabric tearing as his hands struggled to make contact with the other's flesh. When he did, at last, the devil released his mouth for a moment and let out his breath with a hiss. Their gazes met and Satan's gray eyes flashed red. Flame rippled over their bodies, consuming the torn clothes and leaving nothing but ash.

The ash scattered on a sudden warm breeze. "Neat trick," Stone managed, his own vision going red with the heat of his inhuman desire.

"Oh, I'll show you more...so much more," Satan promised, pressing down against Stone, kissing him once more as their bodies seemed to melt together in the heat of their demonic passion. The devil kissed his way down Stone's throat and urged, "Tell me, Ezekiel. Tell me how much you want me."

"I want you," Stone groaned before he could silence his betraying tongue. It was true; he tried to resist and summon the image of Rosalyn's beautiful face in his mind, but it melted away under the flames of the desire that now filled him. With a desperate moan he thrusted up against the hot flesh above him. Satan pulled back, denying him release. "Again!" he demanded. "Say it again..."

"I want you...want you..."

"Of course you do, Ezekiel. And now you'll get exactly what you want."

Was it what he wanted? Ezekiel couldn't tell any longer. How could he know if his desires were really _his_ , when the devil owned his body and soul? Satan was lifting his legs, spreading them. Pain seared him, shattered him, but he couldn't summon the will to fight. The pain melted away and transformed into a terrible, fulfilling pleasure. He dared open his eyes and all he saw was fire, the fires of Hell reflected in the devil's eyes, calling to him, calling him home.

He heard himself scream as the fire and pleasure consumed him, and then everything faded away into nothingness.

* * *

Disoriented, Stone opened his eyes, finding the devil looking down at him, his face only a few inches above his own. Ezekiel needed a moment to remember where he was and what had happened, and when he did his sense of disorientation only increased. He was caught between disgust and desire as he looked into the other's eyes, studied his face, tried to understand what could be going on in Satan's mind.

The devil's gaze in that moment was surprisingly gentle. Almost, Ezekiel was shocked to realize, loving. Could the devil be in love with him? No. No, that couldn't be the case.

But then Satan leaned down, his long hair brushing Stone's cheeks as he pressed gentle kisses on his eyelids. "You possess such passion, Ezekiel, such fire...You _are_ meant to be mine. Forever. Some day you will come to accept that. When the last of my one hundred and thirteen has been returned to me, I'll honor my word and give you a second chance at life...if you still want me to. I have a feeling you won't. You'll know your place is with me." Satan held his gaze for one last, long moment, and then with a smile vanished.

Ezekiel shivered, feeling incredibly, terribly cold.

* * *

End


End file.
